


Love you in the way you need to be loved

by HAMlLT0NFUCKER



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: :), Alcohol, Angst, Birthday, Feelings, Gen, Self-Loathing, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony-centric, give him a hug, hopefully, this is short but it's enough to make you feel empty and dead inside
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 22:32:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7011022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HAMlLT0NFUCKER/pseuds/HAMlLT0NFUCKER
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s his birthday right now, and he’s celebrating it with a bottle of whiskey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love you in the way you need to be loved

It’s his birthday right now, and he’s celebrating it with a bottle of whiskey. 

It shouldn’t be this lonely, this empty. The compound should be lit up, with the lights and the music, and the people laughing and having small-talks inside. There should be a light show, too, if he was feeling a little bit extravagant. Jazz music, probably, or a little bit of reggae. The finest chefs in New York in his kitchen. The people he knows best -- the Avengers, and maybe they could bring along  _ their  _ friends -- all around him. The atmosphere should be light because it’s  _ Tony freaking Stark _ and everything he does is to make sure people are satisfied, happy, thrilled. 

It shouldn’t be this lonely, and yet here he is; drinking amber liquid from a mug, sat in his lab. 

The compound is silent tonight, the way it always has been after Siberia, after they disagreed on the Accords. It caused a rift and it divided the team and Tony’s pretty sure they haven’t forgiven him yet. Actually, Tony’s pretty sure they still hate him.

He mulls over his thoughts as he stares at his mug, hoping it would melt under the heat of his gaze. He doesn’t have the Vision’s abilities, so the mug stays the way it is, and he wants to throw it away. 

No. He doesn’t, really. He just wants FRIDAY to get mad at him. 

His relationship with the AI is sort of maternal, in some ways. Like the way it would argue with him until he concedes; the way it’d remind him to take his meds, avoid harmful habits, remind him about his latest projects. 

FRIDAY, along with Rhodey and maybe even the Vision -- they’re the only ones he has left. He wants to say, “Okay, maybe Sam, too, we’re good right?”, but that’s not true. He wants to say Clint is still his friend, but that’s not entirely true either. Wanda hates him. Nat’s just annoyed because  _ he can’t let go of his ego for one goddamn second _ . (The way she said it is still fresh in his mind.) He doesn’t even know who Scott Lang is, but he’s sure he dislikes him too. 

And Steve, the fucking idiot, damn him and his righteousness, his bad timing, and his temper. Stubborn motherfucker. He’s more than likely to hate his fucking guts, so there’s no use assuming anything other than he’s mad and he hates him and they’ll never be the same. Ever. 

Why does he still care? If Steve--if  _ they _ no longer care, why should he? Why? Why? Why?

Tony has a big heart. He has empathy, and he’s (usually) compassionate. He’s got the charm, and the looks, of a genius, billionaire, playboy and philanthropist. He can be selfish, but that’s always with the best intentions. That’s why he did what he did. That’s why he signed the Accords, why he registered first, because it was the right thing to do. He doesn’t understand why Steve sees it as giving away their freedom, or their right to choose, or whatever he said that day Secretary Ross came to talk to them. He doesn’t understand why, out of all the days, out of all the moments, he had to be selfish. He doesn’t understand why he had to be so righteously  _ stubborn  _ that fucking day.

Why? Why? Why?

He asks himself the same one-word question, over and over again, until his mind bleeds from the overthinking.   

Tony refills his mug, downs it all, and hides the bottle in his cabinet for future usage, because you never know when the shit hits the fan and you feel like your entire being is rotting away from all that thinking and all that  _ caring too fucking much _ . 

He buries his head in his arms, closes his eyes, and tries to ignore his pounding headache. 

The pain is a bitch, but he knows he deserves it, all of it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday, Tony. 
> 
> I'm sorry.


End file.
